


Society for the Whining of Annoyed Pets

by GrimlyFiendish



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Greg is Done, John is done, M/M, Multi, Overprotective Mycroft, Possessive Moriarty, Possessive Sherlock, Pure Crack, Sebastian is Done, based in someone else’s finished work
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-21
Updated: 2018-03-20
Packaged: 2019-04-05 10:25:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14042211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrimlyFiendish/pseuds/GrimlyFiendish
Summary: John, Greg, and Sebastian find they have something in common; dealing with crazy geniuses.





	Society for the Whining of Annoyed Pets

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [SWAP Meetings](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11111268) by [merelypassingtime](https://archiveofourown.org/users/merelypassingtime/pseuds/merelypassingtime). 



Greg sighed, nursing his second beer.   
“Stupid Mycroft, with his stupid kidnappings and stupid above-the-law privileges,” he muttered, before realising how childish he sounded, and groaning. He took another swig of his beer, staring unfocused at the wall. Movement beside him stirred his gaze. It was John! John sat down at the bar stool next to him, and signalled to the bartender.   
“Whiskey neat, please,” he said, sadly. Greg nudged him on the shoulder. “Oh, Greg! Fancy seeing you here.”   
Greg smiled, and asked him; “What’s your story, mate?”.   
John looked startled.  
“Oh, nothing… I’m just. Here. Yeah…”  
Greg snorted. “No way. I know that face. Is it Sherlock again?”  
John sighed heavily. “Yeah. I was gone for two whole days, Greg, and I come back to find him walking about the flat, talking to me like I had never left. It happens all the time, but somehow it really got to me this time. The way he acts sometimes, it’s more like I’m his pet or something than his boyfriend.”  
Greg made sympathetic noises. “I know how you feel, mate. The first time Myc took me out on a date, he had me tranquilised and kidnapped, and I was handcuffed to a chair as he talked on and on about how I had caught his eye, and then about how he had decided that it would be ‘interesting’ to keep a ‘goldfish of his own’. It was bloody humiliating, that’s what it was.”  
John winced. “Ah. That blows. Sorry… hey, is Mycroft why you’re here?” Noticing Greg’s expression, he nodded. “Thought so.”  
“It’s just- he’ll be so sweet and thoughtful one moment, and then totally cold and removed the next. Earlier today, we were in the middle of a nice lunch, and then he got called away on ‘urgent business’. I asked how long he’d be gone, was told that this doesn’t concern me, and then he kissed my cheek, snapped his bloody fingers and these massive, hulking goons dragged me off to our room and BLOODY LOCKED ME IN! FOR FIVE BLOODY HOURS! Oh, hell,” he slumped down in his seat, and covered his eyes. “Why am I surprised anymore.”  
A tall, blond man pushed the door open fiercely, and stomped over to an empty stool on the other side of Greg. John shifted in his seat. “It’s Sebastian Moran,” he whispered stiffly to Greg. “Don’t provoke him,” Greg whispered back. “Too many civilians.”  
Moran ordered a shot of tequila from the bartender, and in a surprising move, put his head in his arms dejectedly. He seemed to be muttering about Jim Moriarty being a ‘God-awful bastard’ and a ‘complete fucking arse’. He honest-to-God seemed on the verge of tears. John decided to take initiative. “Moran? Are you… alright?”   
Sebastian jumped, and looked around wildly. He laid eyes on John and sighed.   
“Just arrest me. I don’t even care anymore,” he mumbled. John’s eyes widened. This was not typical behavior.   
“Hey, come on. Don’t be like that. What’s bugging you?” Greg asked gently. Sebastian’s tequila arrived and, with a muttered thanks to the bartender, whose nametag identified her as Gemma, he threw back the shot, grimacing as the alcohol burned its way down. “It’s Jim,” he revealed, “he’s always grating down on my nerves, day after day. Sometimes it’s like he doesn’t see me as an actual person, just an object he can fuck, and mess around with.” To Sebastian’s surprise, the men next to him murmured in agreement.   
“Yeah, exactly,” John complained. “Sherlock won’t stop deducing me, even in bed. It’s such a turn-off. He treats me like a servant sometimes, too. All ‘John, fetch my coat’, ‘John, make some tea’. It’s a bloody nightmare.”  
Sebastian, starting to realise he had found some kindred spirits, whispered; “He calls me ‘pet’. All the time. Even in front of targets I’m supposed to be intimidating.”  
Greg patted his shoulder. “So does Mycroft.”   
John smiled sadly at him. “Whenever I figure out something, Sherlock praises me like I’m some sort of dog. All ‘Well done, John’, and ‘Good boy, John’. He even pats me on the head.”  
“Same.” The other two men chimed in together. They all looked at each other, marveling at their newfound friendship. Greg stuck out his hand to Sebastian. “Do-over. The name’s Gregory Lestrade, and he’s John Watson. Call me Greg, and him John.” Sebastian took his hand, smiling.   
“I’m Sebastian Moran. Call me Seb.”  
John beamed. “We should meet here every Tuesday, same time. For the SWAP meeting.”  
Greg furrowed his brow. “SWAP meeting?”  
“Society for the Whining of Annoyed Pets,” John smirked. Seb and Greg laughed.   
“Brilliant!”  
“I love it!”  
“Long live SWAP!”


End file.
